


and daniel almost won

by trash_mammall



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Violence, david fights daniel real hard, it's rough y'all but its ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_mammall/pseuds/trash_mammall
Summary: An alternative to the koolaid episode of season 2 from David's perspective.David had so badly wanted Daniel to be a good guy.And Daniel almost wins, but in the end they breathe.(Will post an alternate version with an ending if you want a harsher finale)





	and daniel almost won

David had _so badly_ wanted Daniel to be a good guy.

He’d sensed something the first moment he met those icy eyes, but had brushed it off. Some people just had that kind of energy; that kind of creepy, all-too-happy energy. It was fine. Some would say even _he_ had that energy, so who was he to judge?

There was the blinking - or lack thereof. David had been keeping a close eye on Daniel for the first several minutes of talking with him, and he had begun to realize the incredibly odd void to his natural state. He tried to understand sometimes not blinking for an extended period of time, give this man a chance, but not blinking _at all?_

Everything about this guy was weird, but he always wanted to see the best in things. Daniel seemed nice enough, and he seemed genuinely excited to look after the campers, so why should he complain? Either way, it wasn’t like anything Daniel would do would be seriously dangerous. If anything, the guy maybe would be neglectful or wouldn’t know how to deal with the chaos that came with every activity.

It was fine _._ David had seen a lot, working with Cameron Campbell for so long, so one creepy counsellor was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Everything was _fine._

Or, it was, until Max, Nikki, and Neil had dragged him to the Mess Hall, and he saw what Daniel had been up to while he had been going over paperwork. He saw the banners, the distinct lack of campers, save for SpaceKid, Dolph, and Nurf. The room smelled of grape.

David wasn’t stupid. Naive sometimes, overly optimistic sure, but he wasn’t an idiot. He felt the ice in his veins, following the trail back to those eyes and that smile and he realized, after a moment, that maybe this was beyond his expertise as a camp counsellor.

But he wouldn’t freak out the campers. He was an adult, he could deal with this himself.

“Most are helping prepare for today's festivities,” Daniel explained, David catching his fingers leaving Space Kid’s helmet, a slight smear remaining on the glass, “but a few of them are still hangin' around in the Purification Sauna!”

This was fine, focus on the positive and it’ll all work out.

“You built a _sauna?_ ”

He ignored Max’s shouting, mind catching up to the horrifying fact that the three had been right in the beginning.

That his instincts had been right in the beginning.

As Dolph led Max, Nikki, and Neil to the sauna, Daniel turned his eyes on David. His smile didn’t falter, gaze clawing into David’s chest and forcing him to clench his fists to keep them from trembling.

“Thank you for trusting me so much with the kids, David! I really appreciate it.”

David nodded, smile threatening to break completely. Daniel began his way to the sauna himself, leaving David for a brief moment with Nurf and Space Kid. He quickly pulled the latter towards himself, wiping the smudge of cracker and cheese that had been left behind. David kneeled in front of him, but the wide pupils stared straight through him. He snapped his fingers, waved his hand, frantically knocked on the glass, _anything_.

Space Kid didn’t move.

He barely blinked.

Then he walked past David, Nurf following suit, and they left him on the floor of the Mess Hall, knees growing cold and damp from the wood flooring.

And for a moment the room was silent.

None of this was fine.

David pulled himself up, sweeping dirt from his shins before opening the door. He paused for a moment, trying to understand what was going on. He couldn’t just do nothing, he had a duty to help the kids, but how was he supposed to make a plan?

Daniel was dangerous, obviously. Max and Neil had already laid out some evidence, and the “Purification Sauna” had _Cult_ written all over it. Daniel had done something to the campers. Something terrifying.

This was definitely beyond his experience, beyond any training he could’ve gone through, but Gwen was long gone by now, and there was no way he could contact Mr. Campbell. This was all on him.

David took in a shaky breath, rubbing his face with both hands.

This _would_ be fine. It wasn’t yet, but it would be.

Stay optimistic.

He heard their yelling before he saw anything, then saw Nikki and Neil disappearing through the industrial sauna door. He caught Daniel’s smile, too, caught his hungry eyes and moving arms and the door slamming closed.

Caught them cornering Max.

David’s hand gripped his guitar, and he quickened his pace before they could get closer.

“Daniel, I don’t think this job is a good fit for you.” His voice was rougher than he’d expected, far more commanding, and Max turned to face him, the lines blurred between desperation and relief in his eyes.

Daniel raised his gaze slowly, neck twisting and a crack breaking through the heavy silence.

He laughed.

“I see, and would you care to explain this decision, David?” Daniel’s head snapped to the other side, inhuman and robotic, and David tasted bile at the sound of his name on Daniel’s lips. “Here I thought I had filled out every requirement in my job description, removing any legal grounds for you to terminate my employment.”

David’s knuckles were painted white, hand clutching his guitar in either anger or fear, maybe both. The other moved to grab Max’s hood, pulling him back and behind his legs.

No campers were going to get hurt. That wasn’t an option.

David stepped up close to Daniel, nose to nose, feeling cool breaths on his face. He matched the icy eyes, fire raging strong enough in his stomach to thaw out the frost threatening to paralyze him. He took a breath, stealing himself, but didn’t blink.

He didn’t dare blink.

“Get the _fuck_ away from my campers.”

Daniel’s smile dropped, only for a moment, before it grew wider than David had ever seen it, and far more menacing. There was something new in his eyes, or maybe it had been there before and David had never noticed.

It was greedy, and nauseating, and it was absolutely engulfing.

“I’m sorry to hear you say that, David, but I suppose I can work with this.”

In a split second, Daniel’s fist had grabbed hold of the yellow wrapped around David’s neck. David didn’t need to think, eyes catching a flash of jagged metal before he had both hands on the throat of his guitar.

The wood didn’t connect with anything, but the motion had been enough for Daniel to let go, kicking David in the chest to throw him back. He was scrambling to get up, coughing violently, when he saw a blur of Daniel’s knife far too close to his face. The crooked edge of the knife formed a lump at the back of David’s throat, and he swallowed around it.

His eyes caught blue behind him, and he almost took a moment to breathe a sigh of relief.

Almost.

But then he was throwing himself forward, guitar heavy and solid and he thought it connected with something. He felt the resistance more than he heard the splintering of well-loved wood, pounding blood filling his ears, but he didn’t bother to check. He swung the guitar again, repeating the previous motion perfectly, and any doubt of contact disappeared.

This time he heard the cracking of something, felt the instrument connect, smelled iron.

This time he let himself look, and watched Daniel fall to the ground, blood dripping from his lips. He took a moment to breathe deeply, but felt regret tie a knot in his gut for thinking he had any room for breaks.

Faster than he could have anticipated, Daniel’s bloody fingers were wrapped around the hilt of his dagger and he was throwing himself back at David, handle-first. He tried to move, tried to dodge the attack, but he felt the hard metal of the grip connect with his cheek, followed by a drag of a blade.

Now David _tasted_ iron, spitting crimson into the grass before sending his own fist back, feeling it connect with Daniel’s jaw before he could stand back up properly. David watched Daniel fall to the ground, having not been balanced after lunging with his knife, but he rolled onto his back fast enough, kicking at David’s heels.

Feeling the ground slip from under him, he crashed onto his front and gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. Daniel scrambled, desperate to get the upper hand, and soon David was pushing against a pressure on his chest as Daniel sat on top of him. He felt knuckles connect with his jaw, felt knuckles dig into his abdomen.

He lost count of the hits as they came, only some dulled by his arms, but he never stopped watching the knife.

Eventually, Daniel was given the illusion he was winning. He let himself fall into the twisted dramatic side of him, raising up his dagger for a defining attack. David couldn’t tell if the blade was aimed for his throat or heart, but he didn’t care.

David moved his entire body, flipping them over so he was looking down, sweat and blood mixing - staining white.

He fought to pin Daniel down, hands wrestling to grab pale wrists before they got a chance to connect with him. The rotation had startled Daniel enough for him to lose his bearings, but it wasn’t enough to throw a learned murder completely off.

Daniel’s knife was fast enough, fist slipping by David’s grasp.

He felt the cool metal dig into his upper arm, and bit back against a yelp. The blade had sliced deep, but he finally got his fingers around Daniel’s wrist. The blade came with Daniel’s hands, both pressed against the stained grass above his head, and David’s legs were pressed against Daniel’s thighs.

Both of their lungs struggled to gulp down air, and Daniel’s smile was long gone. Instead, his teeth ground together, blood smeared across canines. David watched as his nose dripped blood, and there was a moment when no one did anything.

A moment when Daniel’s eyes bore into David’s, and David could feel the ice returning.

And then David raised a fist, brain detached enough to feel as though he was watching it connect with Daniel’s temple, the body going limp, more than he was actually the one doing it.

There was a sickening crack, probably David’s red knuckles, but he didn’t bother with it. Instead, he connected one more final fist with Daniel’s head as a form of insurance. He told himself it wasn’t because there was a sick form of satisfaction that came out of it.

He wouldn’t feed that part of him.

Told himself there was no “part” to feed.

David sat back on his heels, lungs greedy for air, and looked around him. Max was sitting a few feet away, eyes wide and mouth parted. His gaze kept jumping between David and Daniel, but he didn’t say anything.

With no sign of an injury that needed immediate attention, David moved his focus to the table set not too far away. There was a large bowl of punch sat proudly in the centre, all of the campers, including Nikki and Neil, surrounding it. They were watching, too, hands full of red solo cups, and they didn’t move.

They blinked in unison, and David couldn’t help the shudder he felt run through his body.

He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the aching and the searing pain in his cuts. As fast as he could, he swiped the cups onto the ground. He didn’t give any worry to the grass below them, mind only occupied with one goal:

No camper was allowed to get hurt.

Eventually, the campers were void of cups, and David let himself lean against the table. He assumed the trance-like state they were all in would only last temporarily, so he simply wouldn’t let them leave his sight until the lucidity returned. He turned to the large bowl of punch, pausing for a moment.

All that would _really_ destroy the grass, wouldn’t it? It was mixed with all the rat poison in the camp, after all. But, then again, it was either that or keep it.

He flipped the glass bowl into the grass, watching the purple liquid drain into the greenery. He mumbled an apology to the life surly being destroyed, but let himself smile once it was done.

No more punch. This really was going to be fine.

David turned and found Max still sitting were he had been before, eyes now only trained on Daniel. David rubbed his hands together, wincing slightly at the aching in his knuckles, before walking over. He then kneeled in front of Max, a couple feet away.

Max’s gaze didn’t move.

“Max, buddy, are you okay?” David tasted blood, and it almost hurt to talk.

Max finally looked at him, eyes holding something unrecognizable.

“What the _fuck_ just happened?” He asked, voice missing anger or its usual gruffness.

David’s brows furrowed, concern dragging at the back of his mind. He raised both of his hands up, grimacing belatedly at the sight of them. He probably wasn’t the most comforting presence at the moment, if his crimson-painted fists were anything to go by, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Max, please, are you _hurt?_ ” He asked again, eyes intent.

Max shook his head, hands shaking.

“No, no I’m fine. He didn’t- He didn’t touch me.” His voice cracked, and he covered his mouth with both hands.

When Max’s eyes met David’s, tears lined the edges.

“What the _fuck,_ David?”

David opened his arms, letting Max shuffle into them. He held Max to his chest, hissing slightly at the pressure against his ribs. It was easy to tell Max was shaking, easy to feel his shirt grow wet with tears. Gasps of air were muffled by hands and fabric, but David didn’t move. He let this moment hang in the air, with everything quiet save for a young child’s wimpers.

After a moment, with one hand, David found his phone in his back pocket. The screen was cracked, but it worked well enough to call the ranger. He spoke calmly, feeling the adrenaline leaving his system and an odd sense of calm take over instead.

He was simply a camp counsellor.

A camp counsellor who had to deal with a cultist lying unconscious in the grass.

Sal hung up with a promise to head up himself, and David let his now free hand cart through Max’s hair. He turned his head enough to look at the campers behind him, still standing at the table.

They seemed to be losing the effects now, Nurf and Space Kid the first ones to shake their heads. Nurf rubbed his eyes with shaky fists, and both pairs of pupils shrunk smoothly.

David let out a breath, and turned Max to watch, still in the safety of his arms.

One by one, The campers began to rub their eyes, pulling consciousness back from the air. Max let out a sigh of relief, and David let him step out of his arms. The campers looked down at Daniel, confusion filling their gaze.

Before Nurf could do more than get a word out, David reassured, “I’ll explain once everyone’s ready.”

That seemed to be enough to settle him, and as David pulled out rope and tied Daniel to a nearby trunk, each camper sat down in the grass. Max found his way to Nikki and Neil once they finally came back into the present, sitting between them in an uneasy silence, pulling them closer than usual.

Each pair of eyes was tired, bags forming below them. Each pair held confusion, or anxiety, or simple exhaustion. Each pair was either settled on Daniel, or David, or the blood splattering the crisp grass, waiting quietly for information.

David let out a sigh, wiping blood from his still bleeding lips before turning back to the group of kids. His hands dragged against his thighs, sickly red streaking the fabric of his shorts, and he gave the group a nervous smile before kneeling down.

“So, I doubt you guys remember much, eh?”

David fumbled through a description of what had happened, leaving out the finer details. He didn’t need to explain the severity of the fight, or the danger of the situation. He didn’t really need to explain why Daniel was tied to a tree, or why purple stained the grass more than crimson.

He explained enough, though. Enough for the campers to relax, and believe he could protect them. Enough to keep them occupied before Sal arrived and took Daniel away, saying something about how dangerous the man was.

Enough to leave the air heavy, and the campers running through everything in tense silence.

And when that silence was broken with the sound of a sputtering engine and crackling gravel, David realized he was an idiot.

A complete imbecile who had forgotten to call Gwen, but she had definitely been called by Sal.

When she threw the door open, running over to where he and the campers still remained on the grass, he prepared himself for shouting. He prepared for her wellknown anger and sarcasm, but instead found her throwing her arms around him.

And his shoulder felt wet as she trembled.

“God, you fucking moron,” she growled out, pulling away from him and wiping under her eyes. “How hurt are you? Did he- did he get any of the campers?”

Only then did she turn to look at the small group, clothing bleached white and gaze exhausted. None of them seemed hurt, though Max’s hoodie had blood on it. With a quick reassurance from David, she took a breath. The campers were fine.

 _David,_ on the other hand.

Gwen stood, wiping grass from her clothes before straightening her back. “Okay, guys, into the Mess Hall. David will go with you, and I’ll be right there.”

The campers nodded, David getting up quickly to help them. Soon, they were all inside, and David was throwing away anything that Daniel had so much as _touched_. The campers were all silent, and he didn’t dare speak up, so they all waited quietly until Gwen returned.

She brought with her the camp’s television on a cart, a selection of movies on the lower level, and a first aid kit.

“Put in a movie while I patch up David, kids. After what just happened, I think you guys deserve a break.” As Gwen spoke, her voice was gentler than it usually was.

It reminded David of late nights, nail polish, and Ben and Jerry’s.

The campers nodded, mumbling in discussion about what movie to pick, while Gwen sat at the table situated behind the campers. Without really noticing, it seemed they had picked a bench between the campers and the front door - one that kept both in eyesight.

David tried not to think about it.

When the movie began playing, David pulled off his shirt, vest, and bandana, showing the extent of his injuries. Gwen bit her tongue, forcing herself not to wince at the blood smearing David’s skin.

Slowly, as the movie’s contents filled the air, Gwen disinfected and wrapped David’s injuries. She ended up stitching a few of his worse cuts, including the gash in his arm and the cut along his cheek, but she couldn’t help the sigh of relief that it hadn’t been more.

He would be bruising for sure, aching for a while, and his knuckles might’ve been broken, but he was okay.

David was definitely tougher than he looked.

When Gwen left for a moment, running to the counsellor’s cabin to grab a new shirt for David, Max pulled away from the group to sit at the table. The plot of the movie had been lost on David, his mind rather preoccupied, but the noise produced comforting nonsense while he sat there, one eye on the Mess Hall doors as he watched the film play out.

Max didn’t say anything for a while, simply sitting on the green wood, picking at a loose string on his hoodie.

Part of David’s mind reminded him that he would have to wash that hoodie soon, get the mixture of his blood and Daniel’s off the blue. Hopefully it wouldn’t stain.

Another part of his mind told him the state of Max’s hoodie _hardly_ mattered at the moment.

“Did you know he was dangerous when you hired him?” Max finally asked, voice hushed so it had a better chance of being confined to the table they were sitting at.

David shook his head, letting out a long breath. “I had no idea. I felt like _something_ was off, but I thought, maybe, he was just one of those guys that feels creepy when they’re actually fine. I guess I should’ve trusted my gut.”

David shrugged a shoulder, a few fingers tapping at his collarbone where his bandana usually rested. Despite his effort against it, his tapping foot and fidgeting hand gave way to how on edge he still was.

Max let out a frustrated huff.

“You _knew_ something was wrong, and you still hired him. You hired a _creepy_ cultist to take care of _children_.” He was growling, still keeping his voice down but fueling the words with everything he had.

David furrowed his brows, turning to give Max his full attention, now. “Max, you know full well I would never intentionally hire someone dangerous. You _know_ how much I care about you campers and Gwen. I would _never_ put _any_ of you in harms way knowingly.” He sighed, sitting back and arms wrapping to hug himself, taking a moment to calm his nerves. “Besides, everyone’s fine and it’s over now. Everyone’s safe.”

Max scoffed, rolling his eyes before flicking the bandage covering the stitches on David’s arm. He let out a yelp, recoiling from Max and gingerly rubbing the white wrappings as Max nodded, almost smugly.

“Exactly.”

David rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward slightly. Dragging a hand through his hair, he moved his gaze back to the television screen.

“Max, I’ve been hit by a bus. _Multiple times._ It’s gonna take more than one cultist to get through me.” He let himself smirk, let himself almost chuckle at his own statement.

As if it were something easy.

As if it didn’t make him taste grape poison in the back of his throat.

Max stood on the wood, ignoring David’s concerned eye at the boards creaking. He grabbed David’s shoulders and turned them face-to-face, fire in his watery eyes, teeth visible like angry dog.

Like frightened dog.

“You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to act like you didn’t just fucking fight a _murderer._ ” His voice didn’t show simply fear, but something deeper mixed with the bubbling anger.

Max pushed David’s shoulders, falling back down onto the floor with a thunk. He took a step back to the group of campers before pausing, not bothering to look behind him.

“You’re a fucking moron who needs to learn better self preservation skills. But that was cool, I guess. I didn’t know you knew how to fight, and you took that asshole pretty good.”

Max shrugged, face still hidden from view, before sitting between Nikki and Neil.

As Gwen ungracefully dumped a new shirt in David’s lap, he watched Max pull his friends closer to him, and he let himself smile.

When he pulled on the new shirt, bare of blood stains or cuts, he let himself take a breath.

He knew he would have to properly fill Gwen in later, at a time when the crickets would swallow up his words, thirsty creatures. He knew it would hurt.

But all the campers were safe.

And, through it all, he was fine.

He’d _won_.

Maybe he was better at this whole “counsellor” thing than he gave himself credit for.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it !! i've had this half-finished for months honestly, just never ended up posting it.
> 
> I love David protecting his campers, n I kind of hate Daniel so this was cathartic.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and like I said in the summary I'll be posting an alternate one because I also love harsher endings so why not !
> 
> Until next time !
> 
> tumblr: trash-mammall


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